Juana Jones's page

Juana nods at Aileen's first statement, then pauses at the second. A nod again at Paul's first comment, then freezing at the second.

"Have I become such a good liar that you believed I could do to our sherriff?" she asks of the bound to her tighter than blood.

She stalks back to Martha, "Come, child." Her voice is quiet, the way she speaks to her kittens. She shakes her head, "If we were not jealous monsters we'd be rotting flesh in the ground."

She takes Martha's hand and leads the old woman out from the house.

Juana's head bows, "Yes sir." She looks at the others to see if they have anything to add, before motioning for Paul to close the phone.

"Smart end or stupid?" Juana asks, "I'm voting stupid."

"To be fair to the ass, that was his opening offer. And then he started stalking us. Please note, sir," Juana looks at Paul and Aileen, "I believe that both of my companions are... fine with that plan." She waits for a nod or a shake.

Juana sighs heavily, "It's just when I break something, I don't want to give it to someone else to fix or discard. And this is something I broke." A pause, "Aileen called you that time."

Juana lets the first question go, but then. "Yes, Lector."

"He wants to acquire the cause of our task. Got a real bug on for it." Sam can't see Juana roll her eyes but it's clear in her voice. "So much so that he's demanding favors if he doesn't close his deal."

"Just about." There is a short pause as Juana rearranges her brain. "The problem.... is contained regardless. But it has shown itself to be clever. I was hoping, with no more flare ups, if we could have some clemency, see if membership could be offered?" Juana stumbles over the words having difficulty without the bastion of straightforward speech.

Even as Juana motions for Paul to get his phone (the one that doesn't have to be attached to a wall) out, her head shifts to look back at the street and she mutters. "Wanted to take some time, see if she's as tenacious and tricksy, wanted to ask all proper, in elysium, like you're supposed to. Hard something that can't keep it in his...."

Her rant ends as the phone rings, her explanation to Paul and Aileen is like Juana - abrupt and to the point. "Gut is good, facts are better."

And at the silence when Paul's phone is answered. "Sherriff Stokes, this is Juana Jones. I have one question in regards to the task you set for us just a few nights past..." a pause, "and then possibly a request for his Majesty the Prince."

"Is Marcus Lector known to you, properly presented to our Prince, and does he deserve to be as much of a dick as he is acting?"

Juana's Charisma+Etiquette is 1 dice so...
hunger: 1d10 ⇒ 6

Just outside the door of the lonely house, where Juana watched Aileen's quiet walk and negotiation, Juana pulls up the hood of her jacket - obscuring her face just enough to make it hard to determine if she is watching Lector or his goon. Her hands retreat into the oversized arms of her coat.

The hood of the jacket turns towards the door, but Juana doesn't bother to speak quietly at first. "I don't see why we owe him anything for, one, a deal we did not obligate ourselves to, and, two, for a human that he has no dominion over."

After the snarl of a comment, Juana's voice drops, speaking only to her coietere, "That said, if you and Paul wish to owe the jackass said specified boon, I will carry it out if deemed necessary."

Aileen shrugs. "Turns out he's more into salt and pepper." She winks at Juana.

"He says you can keep her, if you want - but in return our little group will owe him two dyscrasia. And I think he'd rather hear our answer - either way, from Indie, here."

The noise is half-snort, half-scoff. "All just dominion and power. He just likes to feed from predators."

A pause, then utterly grudgingly, "I wouldn't trust that he just wants to eat her down," her sleeve motions to the interior of the house, "she say beyond the easy, stalked us, became an unseen predator, and patiently laid her endgame."

"Just imagine who else's secrets she may have hoarded until she found ours."

"If we want to go full making an enemy on this guy, Juana could deal with Martha now. And then we show Lector that there's no purpose in a fight ... and maybe he'll go home?"

Paul Clunie, Eternal Optimist.

At Paul's suggestion, Juana nods. "That is not quite the path I'd hoped to walk, but one I was prepared for."

"Un.. pa.. la.. ta.. ble." Juana says with a nod. "Unpa.. la.. table." Her wrinkles get deeper in thought. "Unpalatable." She repeats the word a few more times under her breath, making sure she has it right. As she does, her shoulders hunch, regaining part of her standard disguise, although the hood remains off, leaving her aged face stack in the night.

Juana moves out of the house (with Aileen), leaving the door just enough ajar for Paul.

"Mr. Lector," Juana says evenly as she gets close enough to not have to yell, but not into the other vampire's personal space. "I am sorry to report that we will not be able to come to a agreement as it has been determined that the human inside would be unpalatable to your refined palate." She almost doesn't look at Aileen with a 'how was that' question.

Manipulation+Subterfuge: 2d10 ⇒ (5, 6) = 11
hunger: 1d10 ⇒ 7

Juana slowly, carefully, releases Martha so the woman doesn't collapse to the floor. Quietly, "Accepted, child."

Juana blinks at Paul, "I made the plan. We broke her, it seems fair to give her a choice." She walks over to the pair, closer to the door, inclining her head to Paul and briefly touching Aileen's shoulder so the woman knows she is there.

"I am sorry that Mr. Lector followed us and that requires at least one of us to tell him that we do not have a deal." A heavy sigh, "He is calling me, I can bear the brunt of his annoyance."

Not Aileen quick, Juana is in front of Martha and slaps the woman (NOT using potence) with a snarl. "Right or wrong, you make the choice of which monster seals your fate." Juana grabs Martha chin with one hand and stares into the women's eyes. All the weight of decades learning how to turn her monster to her favor in her eyes.

Charisma+Intimidate: 4d10 ⇒ (8, 7, 10, 10) = 35
hunger: 1d10 ⇒ 3

"Beyond showing you what you are? Oh no. Nothing larger or smaller than whatever soul you've got left."

Juana makes a sound, maybe a chuckle, maybe a choked cry. The hood of her jacket shakes, and she lets loose a long, unneeded breath. She straightens, rare to see her as anything but the hunched crone, and the hood is pushed back so that she can look on Martha with nothing hidden.

Juan's smile is sharp, her ages visage monstrous. "I am that monster, Martha." The voice is even, no judgement of herself or the human murder, "I was before I killed your kin and I continue to be to this night."

Juan's neck cracks as she stretches to stand straight for the first time in years, "But everyone can see that I'm a monster," teeth, the smile is all teeth, "that is the gift of your kinsman's death."

"Miss Jones!" calls a familiar voice outside. It's Marcus Lector, standing with the same man who gave Aileen the business card. "Is my dyscrasia inside?"

Juana snarls, not at Martha, but at the demanding voice from outside. "Choose child. Your death is forewritten by your own hands and by the rules we live by."

She looks at Martha, her voice low, calm, maybe even kind, "Do you wish it to be at my hand or his?" She indicates the voice outside with a roll of her eyes.

Juana looks around for a recording device, a more devious trap than simple attack.

Intelligence+Investigation: 2d10 ⇒ (2, 1) = 3
hunger: 1d10 ⇒ 2

Seeing nothing suspicious, "They do mean something child, but that meaning was never meant for you or yours."

"I think she already knows we are monsters..." Juana hunches into her coat giving a cat a careful hug before storing Ember into a safe pocket. "Best I'm there in case we can't remain civil."

Juana waits a but to see if Aileen or Paul wants to put a pretty face on their visit, but if not Juana goes up and knocks on the door.

"And," Juana says, not looking at her coietere, "if she is..." her voice trails off before she starts again. "She saw an injustice she wanted highlighted. She choose targets that had a stain on them, like we do."

"I want to hear her, give her a chance to resolve her history before we take the next step." Juana's voice is dull, near monotone.

Juana doesn't rush, doesn't want to draw attention to herself as she moves through the room to the back area. Still to many. She keeps moving deeper into the hotel, higher, until there is quiet.

"One does not tip maid to clean this, we do it. She would only be a witness that would need to be kept silent. For all the long years of her human life." Juana says, the tone indicating she doesn't know if Paul's more than human is actually better.

At the knock at the door Juana moves to where she could take down someone barging in.

Juana winces away from her image in the hotel mirror, solidly giving it her back. Hunching as she is again confronted by the bloody massacre on the bed. She shrugs, face stark, "We aren't human anymore."

Her voice is hollow, "I let it out, don't deserve to be human."

She looks at her coietere, looking if any of them is human enough, clean enough to go and borrow a maid's cart.

"We need to get th... him. We need to get him and the bloody sheet out of the hotel. Maybe a maid's cart and then a trunk."

Her eyes move over the blood. "Bleach."

Voice breaks, "Don't deserve to be human."

"Never anymore."

She nods when Aileen mentions calling the sheriff. "That too." Her voice is dull, route.

Juana opens the gate carefully looking for the horde. "The key, if we just see a few, is to make sure we don't look like we are trying to escape."

Composure+Stealth+Aid: 5d10 ⇒ (8, 8, 5, 5, 9) = 35
hunger: 1d10 ⇒ 5

Juana also nods on the finding out part. Stymied by a locked door, Juana does what she does and goes to unlock it... one way or another.

Quiet Way - Dexterity+Stealth: 3d10 ⇒ (8, 4, 6) = 18
normal hungry: 1d10 ⇒ 8

set your Hunger to 1, or 0 if you killed the guy

Corpses are a pain to deal with, Juana is at Hunger 1

And not that we've heard about it yet, but have we come across Harry Lloyd previously?

Alleycat pool, so roll that.

Strength+Brawl: 3d10 ⇒ (5, 8, 4) = 17

Once they are no longer anywhere near the crazies, Aileen says, "I want to say that they were nice, but the gun waving was a bit much. That was really weird. Someone is killing people and taking their adrenalin filled blood. Who'd want to drink that? Eww."

"Mr. Lector." Juana says. "Enough so that he is trading a boon for our killer."

"Makes you wonder if someone is pulling the killer's strings."

---

Rouse: 1d10 ⇒ 2
Hunger to three and Juana should probably eat. As she refuses to eat any of her cats, we need to look elsewhere. Juana would hunt for a solitary human predator, someone who makes the city a worse place - the guy who sells drugs to kids, the person who waiting to jump someone for money.

"Okay." Before Juana finishes the word, she releases the chokehold and pushes Brad towards Jim. "Take your friend to the hospital, he's been shot."

"One of the dangers you face, running around with guns."

Juana gives a little nod when Aileen asks about adrenachrome, although she looks dubious at the explanation. Not that there aren't transitory properties in blood, but why would rich humans want it.

"As my friend says, we are not the ones who put that poor woman in her current state." A pause, still keeping the solid Brad between her and the pointed gun, "This is very important though," her eyes find Jim's, "what time did your militia discover her? Precisely." She looks at Paul, giving him a nod, thinking about his mention that the cutting on the woman had been stopped abruptly.

"Let's go with the title Larry gave me." Juana says, not trying to hurt Brad more, but keeping him as a shield against the bigger gun, just a hint of a sharp grin behind the man's wounded shoulder, "Baba Yaga."

"And I very much want to know who you are and how you heard about the poor woman next door."

She shifts behind Brad slightly, trying to ensure Paul would be able to take a shot if it becomes needed, "Nothing so catastrophic has happened, we can leave here with an accord."

Manipulation+Intimidate: 3d10 ⇒ (3, 9, 1) = 13
Hunger: 2d10 ⇒ (6, 6) = 12

"We are not playing at shooting my friends," Juana hisses as she attempts to twist Brad into a chokehold.

Strength+Brawl: 4d10 ⇒ (2, 7, 5, 6) = 20
new shiny blood smell: 2d10 ⇒ (1, 4) = 5

Spend 1 Willpower to reroll the 2+5: 2d10 ⇒ (9, 10) = 19

Loudly, growling, to the other people, "This doesn't have to end badly for you. We are hunting for the killer, not you."

Juana grabs the barrel of the shotgun pulling it, and the person holding it, into the room and into the floor. With force.

Strength+Brawl: 4d10 ⇒ (1, 8, 6, 3) = 18
Not biting, even with hunger: 2d10 ⇒ (2, 3) = 5
Lethal Body, 1 = yes: 1d2 ⇒ 1

Juana mimes a shooting motion at the door to Paul and then prepares herself to take down the first through the door. Preferably non-lethally.

In 11C Juana still ensures the unknown shadows would have to go through her to get to her allies.

Composure+Stealth: 2d10 ⇒ (3, 4) = 7
hunger: 2d10 ⇒ (10, 3) = 13

"Hiding next door would give us a chance to find out what other people are interested in this." Juana says after considering the single stair, currently occupied.

"But if we are going to do something, we need to now." A pause, "Else I'll try to give you both space." The to fight or flee is left unsaid.

Juana moves so that she is between the door and her friends. Not that she knows they are coming up the stairs, but she is hoping that whatever is incoming isn't flying.

Before the Call

Lector's smile could freeze vodka. "I pay my debts, Miss Jones. All of them. In kind."

Juana head cocks to the side in confusion, "Of course you do." Waving a hand, clearing that, "As I said, I don't know you. If I need concert tickets, I call someone who knows actors. If I need the name of the junkie that lives under the third bridge from the port, then I would talk to a very different person."

"I would hate to call on you for a boon that isn't in your normal sphere, because it would make it more odious for you than it should be."

The Scene

Juana just looks at the Dectective as he complains that they were unable to discorporate to him. "Does 11D belong to the deceased? Have you been inside?"

She looks for people and animals as she heads up the stairs.

"Time to run."

Once Aileen indicates they are needed elsewhere, Juana rises, gives a polite nod to Mr Lector and leaves. The fizzy gin drink is left untouched on the counter, but the swizzle stick is gone.

And she and Mittens makes sure they get to Detective Bob whilst mentally preparing the the smell of the masses of blood.

Before the Call

Juana mostly nods with Paul's decision. However, "Sorry to be rude, but I tend to stick to my own." She considers if there is anyway to be less rude... and her social skills are lacking. "I don't know you. Can you elaborate on the value of your boon?"

Juana blinks a few times, processing. "What has led you to believe that the killer is a dyscrasia? And more specifically a type that your collection lacks?"

Juana perches on a sit, her fingers playing with the swizzle stick. "You have a venture to discuss?"

Juana approaches, one hand hidden in the jacket and the other holding the fizzing drink. "Hullo, dearie. So good to meet a polite man in these busy, impolite day." She inclines her head, "Thank you for the invite, Mr. Lector."

There is a pause, as polite rules percolate through her aged brain, "Juana Jones."

When Juana gets to the Four Leaf, she tries to be her unobtrusive self. Not the bars normal clientele, but very passable as an old drunk marm, with just enough control to drink at a bar instead of at home. She orders and pays for a lemon gin fizz. It comes up to her nose as she looks around, getting a feel before she approached the poke-business-man.

Sense the Beast
Opposed check: Resolve + Animalism vs Composure + Subterfuge: 2d10 ⇒ (1, 8) = 9
so many yums around: 2d10 ⇒ (7, 2) = 9

Juana nods at her friends, "See you at the Four Clover, then." Walking off into the darkness as she pulls something out of her pocket and poking at it.

"His minion was polite." Juana offers. "We go meet the master?" She looks at, but does not touch the matte card.

Juana, attention still heightened from Mr Thrush, examines the new individual.

Sense the Beast
Opposed check: Resolve + Animalism vs Composure + Subterfuge: 2d10 ⇒ (6, 6) = 12
hunger: 2d10 ⇒ (6, 7) = 13

When Paul gets back to the Thrush house, Juana motions for Aileen to move out to a safe distance. Once the room is clear of her friends, Juana drops the biker turns to give him the insult of allowing him at her back as she stalks out.

"His computer, some chemistry stuff. Where'd I put it? Where do you think? In the garbage!"

"And," Juana asks evenly, "on which day is your garbage collected?"

and on the assumption that Carl was cooking meth in the basement, finding evidence (smell, burns, etc) would that be a science or medicine - neither of which Juana has. However if there are locked doors, kicking down the front door was cathartic.

"They," Juana tilts her head towards the busted door with Paul and Aileen just beyond, "were the nice individuals investigating Carl's death. But you just had to make it so I came out to chat."

Raising her voice just enough to be heard over the heavy metal, "Paul, why don't you go down to Carl's room and see if you can find his phone, computer, anything that might let us know who was after him."

She turns her attention back to Mr. Thrash, "Was there anyone new in Carl's life that you did see? Maybe a girl?"

"Tell me about them. The ones that did get your boy." A smile, "I'd much rather hunt them. Tell me what you know about them so I can go away and leave you to your," she looks around the room, "life?"

Are there any other people in the house being drawn to the goinging-on?

On the very echo of the words, the bones in her back crack, as Juana stands at her actual height. "ok" The single word, punctuated by a light smile... and by Juana's foot coming up to kick right at the lock.

Strength+Strength: 4d10 ⇒ (2, 10, 5, 4) = 21
Hunger: 2d10 ⇒ (8, 1) = 9
Potence 1 means that if the door is mortal it takes aggravated damage...

Once the door is open, Juana moves quickly (not Aileen quickly, sadly) to the belligerent man, her hand snapping out to grab him by his throat. Squeezing just enough to hold him, to hurt, but not to strangle or snap the annoying neck... yet.

Strength+Brawl: 4d10 ⇒ (5, 6, 9, 6) = 26
So hungry: 2d10 ⇒ (1, 3) = 4
*choosing NOT to do aggravated damage at this time

"Mr. Thrush." Juana starts, so very politely. "You are going to answer every question I and my associates have about your son, his friends and what has been happening in his life, or I promise you I will beat the answers out of your sorry hide."

A smile, all teeth, "I'm hoping you want to be reticent."

Charisma+Intimidation: 2d10 ⇒ (7, 8) = 15
Hungry: 2d10 ⇒ (1, 5) = 6

Making sure, Mr. Thrush has the air to speak, "Tell me about your son."

Juana circles back from her reconnoiter to find the closed door and, no doubt, annoyed surprise on Aileen's face. Juana walks up to the door, her posture slowly unfolding as she does. A glance at her friends reminds her to be polite, so she knocks, her fist pounds into the surface of the the door thrice with a pound-rap-rap rhythm.

Then she counts to ten, so as to give the grieving parent time to reopen the door.

As the we of Paul and Aileen talk to the paunchy man, the we of Juana and Mittens carefully lurks around the far too bright windows, seeing what she can lean. Looking to see if the dead Thrush's room is occupied. Just creeping.

Wits+Stealth: 3d10 ⇒ (4, 3, 1) = 8
Hunger: 2d10 ⇒ (10, 5) = 15

Canvassing The Neighborhood

Juana stalks Paul as he talks to the not-prey. Sliding into shadows to look into windows rather than talking.

Dexterity+Stealth: 3d10 ⇒ (4, 9, 4) = 17
they smell tasty: 2d10 ⇒ (8, 8) = 16

Juana blinks at Aileen twice, slowly, "The creature we are hunting, the one who let the blood of the kine to soak into the earth, undrunk and unused."